The more I learn about Plants, the more humbly aware I become of my ignorance of exactly what Magical forces of Science they employ in order to be what they are and do what they do. So thoroughly am I under their Spell, I wish only to fill my enchanted mind with whatever it is they deign to teach me. So unsatisfied are they with my simple inadequate mind, they seem to have found it necessary to steal my heart and soul as well.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please help me welcome back our dear friend and talented poet, Ruth Bavetta. Her poem “Autumn Sacrifice”, which originally appeared in Spillway, is the perfect way to show off the first pomegranate to come from my fledgling tree. Thank you again Ruth, for sharing your talent.

...Punica granatum - November 2011

Autumn Sacrifice

~ By Ruth Bavetta

When I bring the pomegranates into the kitchen,
already my hands are stained with red.

The bruised globes, with their gaping wounds,
ooze crimson onto the white tiles.
The hard dry skins resist my knife.
A slip, and my blood mingles with the fruit’s.
Cooked with sugar, thickened, poured into jars,
the jelly is both sweet and bitter.